


This Unreachable Sunrise

by evening_spirit



Category: 9-1-1: Lone Star (TV 2020)
Genre: Cancer, Depression, Episode: s01e03 Texas Proud, Episode: s01e04 Act of God, Episode: s01e05 Studs, Family Relationship - Freeform, Gen, Illness, M/M, Missing Scenes, References to Drugs, Suicidal Ideation, Suicidal Thoughts, episode coda, swear words: sue me
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-30
Updated: 2020-03-31
Packaged: 2021-02-27 11:54:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 12,056
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22476700
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/evening_spirit/pseuds/evening_spirit
Summary: TK wants to be able to feel. But feelings have consequences and sometimes it's easier to stay in the no-feels zone. As TK tries to balance Carlos, new friendships and his Dad's illness, he turns his back on the way the world around him turns to ash. If he keeps up the brave face and believes everything's gonna be fine, it has to actually be fine, right? Isn't that how it works?A 1x03 coda that turned into a series of episode fills (but with a twist).
Relationships: Carlos Reyes (9-1-1 Lone Star)/TK Strand, Owen Strand & TK Strand, TK Strand & Judd Ryder, TK Strand & Paul Strickland
Comments: 106
Kudos: 395





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Just some thoughts I needed to get out. More a character piece than any actual plot. I kind of try to stay close to canon, just maybe add depth to the character interactions? Or my own twist? I don't know.  
> Take care of yourselves and heed the warnings: suicidal ideation, depression and somesuch are a little more dwelved into than on the show. Second chapter includes a brief description of a flashback and/or sleep paralysis incident with inability to breathe.

"I'm not trying to be your boyfriend," Carlos said. "Or even your friend, if you're not into it." He leaned forward and stared straight into TK's eyes. TK wanted to smack him for his impudence. And nosiness. Of course he'd tell him now, to talk to someone about how stupid his behavior was. Of course, "You should talk to someone about why you felt compelled to do something so-- suicidal."

Fuck.

TK felt blood rush down from his head and face and shoulders, and pool somewhere below his stomach. The ringing in his hears. The whirlwind in his guts.

He wasn't suicidal.

"Got a little crud there, by the way," Carlos pointed at his lip.

Sure.

As Carlos helped TK wipe the dried blood off the corner of his mouth, TK remembered their earlier encounters. His body remembered. The spark. It's not that having sex with Carlos made him suddenly ecstatic. Neither did the brawl at the bar or earlier argument with Judd. Going down under, after Marjan, that did, that gave him the kind of scare he actually  _ felt _ . But Carlos made him remember that he used to feel. Sex with Carlos gave him that tiny spark of a memory of an emotion.

And he was so unfair to Carlos. Carlos Reyes was a good person and he didn't deserve to be used as TK's coping mechanism.

"I'm sorry I went crazy on you the other night," he tried to apologize.

Carlos shrugged him off. "I'm a cop. I'm used to crazy."

He could leave it at that. TK could just take it and be over with everything. He wanted to set Carlos free of himself, to not use him anymore. To just be a one-off and forgotten, that was what he deserved. But some selfish part of him didn't want Carlos to think ill of him.

"Look," he started before he could stop himself. "I just went through a really bad breakup. Like, nuclear bad." Sometimes he did things without any conscious thought. Sometimes things did themselves, words said themselves. Like in this moment, "and then I relapsed," he added.

"You mean with me?" Carlos either didn't get it, or he played dumb. Or he was well trained, because TK felt compelled to clarify.

"No." He couldn't look at Carlos though. "I mean with substances." The shame. The ugly feeling engulfed him like a swamp.

"Right. Which explains your reaction to the champagne." Of course Carlos didn't take it as something he should despise TK for. Why was he so understanding? "I'm such an idiot," he apologized, "I'm... I'm sorry..." Like he had anything to apologize for. It was TK. It was TK's fault and it was TK being a weirdo and a scrappy waste of a human being.

"No, it's fine, okay?" He stopped Carlos. "I mean, ever since I've gotten here," that need to explain himself got the better of him again and he kept talking, "it's just... it's just gray, and I just feel numb all the time. I guess I just... I wanted to feel something."

Great. Like, if his reaction to the dinner wasn't crazy enough, now Carlos would never want to have anything to with a freak like him. If TK wanted to achieve that, then he should have felt satisfied, shouldn't he? Why then that pit it his stomach wouldn't close? Why did he feel like sinking?

He pulled his stuff from the plastic bag and sprung to his feet abruptly. Run, everything screamed inside him. Run!

"Judging by that lip," Carlos's voice made him spin on his heel. "I'd say mission accomplished."

The fuck?

"You really busting my balls right now?" TK asked, incredulously.

"Yeah." Carlos looked straight up at him. Didn't avoid his gaze. Smirked, "I suppose I am."

Smirked?

Something in TK's chest loosened and he felt the corners of his lips pull up in a smile. A genuine smile that he wasn't sure he was capable of anymore.


	2. Chapter 2

He took the Uber home. It was almost two a.m. before TK finally got there, unsure what to say, how to explain his coming in so late. With a split lip, a shiner and drops of dried blood on his t-shirt. Would Dad think the same as Carlos, that he was suicidal?

He wasn't.

He really wasn't.

It was just a squabble.

Dad was asleep. TK took it with some surprise, considering Dad said he'd be on his case and all. He was certain Dad would be waiting up, more worried than angry and making TK feel all the guilt and disappointment in himself. The fact that he didn't, only postponed the conversation, though, not removed the necessity of it happening. They had to talk. TK had to tell Dad, that he got into a fight. Sober. Deliberate. The mere thought of admitting to it made him wanna puke. He didn't want to be this problem child for his Old Man. Dad didn't deserve such mess. But TK had promised he'd be honest.

Although… did he? He had promised he would get better. That he would live.

He didn't sleep well. When he woke up, it was the middle of the night, still dark, and he couldn't move. He couldn't even breathe. For one terrifying moment – in couldn't have lasted more than several seconds – his body wouldn't obey. He felt stifled, suffocating. He screamed inside, he wanted to claw at his throat, hit his chest, but his hands were immobile, just like the rest of him, just like his ribcage and his throat and his mouth and even his eyes wouldn't open and he was terrified that he was dying, right this moment.

And then he could breathe again. He sprung up, panting. For a brief second, when air filled his lungs, he thought he was back in his New York apartment, with his Dad hovering above, and a face mask over his mouth.

It was only four-twenty-one on his nightstand clock.

When the clock showed six-oh-oh TK padded down to the kitchen and put on coffee. Dad came in three minutes later.

"Oh, is coffee ready? Good."

"Hey," TK welcomed him, startled. What was stranger even, that dread from last night, about having a conversation with his Dad, was now completely gone. "You're up early." He smiled into the statement, turning toward Owen, open and at ease. "We don't have shift till, like, ten?"

"I got stuff to do." Owen waved him off, as he poured himself a cup. "You got in late though?"

"Yeah," TK started, not sure what to say next.  _ I was jut walking? _ Or,  _ I went to a bar and had two guys beat me up? _ Which option was better? Neither made him feel like anything really, no fear, no shame, no anger.

Owen didn't let him mull over the answer too long.

"You didn't get into any trouble, did you?" He cast a brief glance at him between the rim of the cup and his eyebrow, and then opened the fridge.

"No." That, at least was easy to answer. Yes or no, black or white.

And, apparently, Dad didn't expect him to elaborate.

"Will you do the shopping?" he asked instead. "We're out of eggs. And yoghurt."

TK leaned his ass against the counter. This morning was not what he expected. And maybe it was for the better? He no longer felt compelled to do anything suicidal, as Carlos had put it. He… He felt better.

"Sure." He nodded. "I can do that before shift."

"Don't forget about your appointment."

"Of course I won't." TK smiled with inexplicable ease. Especially considering he wasn't going to go. The thought about pretending there too, that everything was normal and okay, made him instantly tired. But he could lie to his Dad about going, just like he lied about not getting into trouble. Those lies he could deal with. Lies that had a bigger purpose, like, not causing his father worry, not giving him any more gray hair, stuff like that.

"What happened to your face?" Dad asked.

"Oh, that?" TK patted the corner of his lip. It stung a little. "It's from the corn slide."

"Ah." Owen furrowed his bow at him, but didn't press. Obviously figured he hadn't noticed before. "I'll see you at the Station." Grabbed his car keys and left.

TK felt spent. Like he'd just ran up and down Chrysler Building three times.

He needed twenty minutes to get to work, so he figured, with almost four hours left, he could catch up on some sleep after all.


	3. Chapter 3

Michelle had good intentions pushing him toward TK. Swallow your pride and all that. But Carlos couldn't very well tell her why things with TK were weird, now could he? Disclosing someone's substance abuse past wasn't something he would do, not without a very good reason.

Didn't change the fact that he desperately needed advice.

Or to sort it out in his own head.

Why was he even attracted to TK? Oh, physical aspect of it was obvious, the fireman was mighty fine. But the freak out at dinner, the clearly self-destructive brawl at the bar and his later admission to bad habits? Those were all major red flags when it came to a potential relationship. Each could get him burned. And Carlos was not a self-sacrificing idiot with a savior complex, never had been. Well maybe when it came to police work, but not in private life. He had never wanted complicated.

TK was nothing if not complicated. TK was a disaster.

No, Carlos thought, he couldn't get himself involved in that.

Besides, from all he'd ever learned at any of the psychology seminars the department had him attend – superficial though they were – a person in that state of mind, shouldn't be starting a new relationship anyway. TK's state of mind that is.

The guy was using for fuck's sake. Had been using. Recently, he said. How long ago was recently? Half a year? A month? They'd come down South not more than four weeks ago, so chances were it was all very fresh. He was probably in AA and they discouraged relationships. For a good reason.

TK was either self aware enough or burned enough to not want a relationship right now.

What right did Carlos have to push?

Not to mention kid was most likely depressed. Like, clinically depressed. Carlos's jab at his suicidal actions might not have been so far off the mark, for all he knew.

Damn. 

Why did he even need to convince himself about those things? If anyone asked him for an advice, giving all those facts, he'd have told them to run as far as they could from the guy. If he told Michelle all the details, she would have told him to be careful. Best yet – not get involved at all. She'd say that, of course she would.

So why then, having cast one glance at TK during a call, had him spinning again? Why, back at the station, did he have his phone in his hand, TK's number flashing on screen?

No. Don't do this, he told himself, shrugged and pressed ‘call'.

"Officer?" TK's voice was wary, uncertain.

"It's Carlos. I'm not calling in a professional manner."

The sigh on the other side was unmistakable. "You're not going to bust my balls then?"

"No," Carlos chuckled at the callback. "Probably not right away anyway. Wanted to ask if you're off shift tonight."

"Nope, I'm on. But I'm off tomorrow."

"Oh. Any chance you're going to Honky Tonk?"

"The whole team's probably going, so I don't see why not?"

"What would you say about going with me? You know, we could play some darts, maybe dance a little? No strings and all that."

TK was silent for a moment. Carlos was ready to regret the whole thing, but then TK said quietly, "It could be nice."

"Great. I'll see you then!"

"See you then."

It didn't have to be anything. Not a relationship for sure. Not even a prospect for sex, not likely. Just a date.

Like kids in high school.

And like a kid in high school, Carlos felt giddy with excitement.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry about writing this

Sometimes days passed in a blur, especially with night shifts and day shifts mixing. Other times every minute of every hour was crystal clear and dragged like knees on a jagged pavement. Clean the rig, work out, rescue, sleep, inspect the hoses, rescue, mop the floor, work out, eat, sleep, clean the rig. At least there was work. Days off shift were much worse.

Dad didn't do great. Had an off day, he said. He was distracted too, TK noticed. He hoped it wasn't just worry about him. He'd hate that. He'd hate to be nothing more than the reason for people to worry. Someone who's making them annoyed, exasperated with his antics… No.

No, he wasn't supposed to think like that. He wasn't just that. He was also… He couldn't remember when he'd last made his father happy. Or proud. Or had made anyone happy.

There were cravings too. Every day. The idea, of how easy it would be, of the calm inside his head…

Those thoughts had to be crushed too, put down.

Ignored.

Dad had more on his mind than just worrying about his fuck-up son, he must have. Running a firehouse in a new town, with all the new rescue procedures, that he still had to get acquainted with, that had to take a toll. Although why on his physical form? TK had a feeling that he was missing something and Judd's pointed look after that bench press incident with his Dad, it only fueled TK's anxiety.

Judd was another kettle of fish. Ever since that silo rescue, they were circling each other like angry cats. TK wasn't sure what more Judd wanted to tell him, but he sure was ready to scratch the man's eyes out if he ever cornered him.

So yeah, maybe it wasn't fair toward Carlos, that he kept bringing up Judd all the time during their… date. But at least it distracted them enough from doing something they might regret. Something TK might regret.

He had no idea why Carlos asked him out, even. After everything. The dinner fiasco, his admitting to being a junkie and potentially still hung up on his ex. He wasn't, at least he didn't think so, but the effects of that whole mess lingered. Alex was still somewhere on the edge of his consciousness, like a ghost and TK wondered if he'd ever fully leave all that behind. How could he have been so stupid? How could he have not seen this coming? Being cheated on for months on end and still being pathetic enough to want to propose to the cheater. His reaction was overexaggerated too. Trying to kill himself over Alex? This was so immature. Childish. At least Carlos didn't know about that. But what, in ever loving fuck, got into him to make that speech about the gray and wanting to feel something and shit. God, he was so pitiful.

And yet, Carlos still smiled at him and then called him and played darts and even teased him about no one ever speaking to him the way Judd had. Like he cared. Carlos was too damn good for TK. And TK really did owe him to at least loosen up a little. Make it a fun evening. Focus on the right things.

"You know I'm holding a dart?" he turned the argument into a joke.

"And I'm packing a piece," Carlos deadpanned and damn, TK didn't know what to say. Carlos was smart, quick-witted and not afraid of anything. He was also hot. He was so damn freakin' hot.

TK wanted to go back home with him, push him against those walls, get pushed around and maybe pounded into his couch. Instead Carlos drove him home after and wasn't that the right thing to do? All he got was a sweet, lingering parting kiss. He was calmer though, much calmer after talking to Carlos and doing all that normal stuff.

Which was probably why, when Judd approached him during the next shift, TK didn't immediately attack. Instead he listened, tried to open up and maybe understand where Judd was coming from. And understand he did. More than he wanted.

Judd had been through something terrible. Something actually horrible and scarring and he still came out on top of it somehow and TK felt a stab of guilt at making it harder for him, for that one bad moment. And yet, it was Judd who came up to apologize, to make amends. Damn, TK owed the man, big time.

"Thank you," he said. "For calling me out." He wasn't sure what to add, but he had to say something and then he remembered Carlos's words. "You were right, man. No one has ever talked to me like that. I appreciate it." He did. He needed that reality check. He was not the most miserable person on the planet and it would be good to remember that.

"Hey, man, that's what brothers do." Judd smiled and it was like a ray of sunshine for TK. He finally did something good, something that lifted the weight off someone else's shoulders.

"All right, well," he could keep this going, "if we're brothers, you can't call me the coach's son anymore, because you are too."

The grin on Judd's face was worth everything.

"We're good?"

"Yeah, we're good."

Even the teasing from Paul and Mateo had that familial tint to it, all in good fun and gleeful.

Why then, five seconds later, when the voices fell away and everyone went after their own separate errands, that oppressing grayness returned? Why couldn't it stay away for a little while longer?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now that I'm done with coda for 1x03, should I keep going with 1x04? I don't feel like my interpretation of TK's state of mind is that far off, and my brain is providing more ideas. But, I must warn you, they are not getting any happier. Perhaps even more gloomy, actually...


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Goes along episode 1x04  
>  **Warning:** Intrusive thoughts about suicide

Tornados were going to make the shift interesting.

And they did.

Marjan saved the lady from the car hanging upside down, Dad saved the kids from the wrecked house. They missed the symptoms on the father, but fathers did that sometimes. Pretended everything was alright to make sure their children were safe.

TK knew his Dad was hiding something. They lived together and noticing he skipped meals wasn’t that hard. Then that veggie burger over on Addison? What a load of crap. All it told TK was that Judd was in on the thing.

Then, the cough.

Then. The pills.

The few hours TK spent waiting for Dad at home, researching the medical uses of granisetron, were some of the longest hours of his life. Moments he wanted a pill for himself so bad, so... A handful of pills, so they would take care of the worry, the fear, for good.

He had wanted to feel something. Damn, if he’d known he would be feeling this, he’d rather stay numb for the rest of his life.

The worst part was the he couldn’t be certain. Maybe it wasn’t cancer? Maybe it was… What? Acute gastroenteritis? Or cyclic vomiting syndrome? Except the first one was just a common stomach bug and the second was diagnosed in little children. Besides, the cough was as clear sign as they got, so, it had to be cancer.

Why was it past ten pm and Dad wasn’t home yet? What if he was driving home and felt faint? What if he had an accident? What if he… No. No, TK didn’t want those thoughts!

He made himself coffee, but couldn’t stomach the taste. Skin on his arms and shoulders felt tight, like it turned into plastic. He took a cold shower but it didn’t help. He thought about dunking his head under the water and keeping it there until the world blanched out. Water would muffle the sounds, blur the shapes of things and the light. Make everything go away. But he knew his body would betray him, it wouldn’t let him stay under till the end. If he wanted to achieve the desired effect, he’d have to go to some larger body of water, some river or a lake, use some load to weight himself down.

Damn it! No!

He didn’t want to think like that!

Why were those thoughts coming? He wasn’t thinking that, he wasn’t planning that! He had to be strong, especially now, for his Dad. It’s enough that Dad couldn’t trust him enough to tell the truth, it’s enough that he failed so much already. He was weak and soft and he had to prove to his father that he wasn’t, that he could be relied upon, because otherwise…

Otherwise…

He couldn’t lose his father. TK knew that he wouldn’t survive a day without support. Not that he wanted to survive, but he wanted to help his Dad. He wanted his Dad to be well.

His throat was on fire and his bones were jittery under his skin and there had to be something he could do!

When he heard the car in the driveway he went to the door, but couldn’t open it. He felt faint. Or maybe it was the floor, it was made of soft rubber and he couldn’t stand straight, so he leaned on the table next to the entrance. He couldn’t breathe.

But he had to pull himself together, if he wanted to prove his father wrong about not trusting him.

“I thought you'd be asleep.”

“I'm not tired.” Did his voice sound rough? Or was it just the pounding in his own ears?

“Is something wrong?”

Isn’t it? Everything. Everything is wrong. TK admitted to finding the pills in his Dad’s office. “I looked it up, and it's anti-nausea meds for chemo patients.” He hated how his voice was breaking. “The cough... it's lung cancer, right?”

“I was gonna tell you.”

“Sure you were. How long have you known?” Damn, he sounded like a petulant child. But then, that’s what he was, wasn’t he? He wasn’t even adult enough to face the facts.

“Since before we left New York.”

“Wow. Wow, you must think I'm so weak.” He didn’t want to make it about himself, but he did. “Admit it. You didn't think that I could handle it. You thought that fragile TK would spin out and OD again? That's what you thought, right?”

Dad stood in front of him, shaking his head vehemently. “It's not like that at all.”

TK felt so bad about all this. About how he acted right now. His Dad was sick, he wanted to help him, take care of him, he wanted to prove that he could, but all he could really talk about was himself. His feeling of inadequacy.

"Why would you lie to me every single minute of every day?”

Why wouldn’t you trust me? Oh, of course, because TK wasn’t worthy of trust, wasn’t that obvious?

“The reason I didn't tell you about my diagnosis is not because I think you're weak.” Lie. There you go, on top of everything else, now TK made his Dad lie to make him feel better. Damn it, it was supposed to be the other way around. He was supposed to make Dad feel better. “It's because I am.” What? “I knew that if I told you and looked in your eyes and saw grief or fear... It would make it real.”

What? But it actually made sense. In a way. Yes, it was a lie, it was obviously a lie, a way for Dad to take some of the burden off TK, give him an out. But TK grabbed it with both hands. Because yes. Dad needed something from him and it was relatively simple; it was something he could easily do. Stay strong. He could do that.

“Dad, look at me.” He waited and when their eyes met, continued, “Do you see fear and grief? No.” And it wasn’t there. Just like that, all his earlier emotions evaporated and TK was surprised he had even felt like that, before. Like, it was so unreal. He was optimistic and confident now. “You know why? Because you are gonna kick the crap out of this cancer, especially because from now on, I've got your back. I've got your back, Dad.” There was nothing they wouldn’t beat, as long as they were at it together.

TK pulled his Dad, or maybe he was pulled into a tight embrace. His father’s arms around him were solid and warm, even though they held nothing more than bones in a sack of skin and empty spaces between them.

“Thanks, Son.”

Strong, TK remembered. He had to be strong.


	6. Chapter 6

TK made sure he was in his top form. He ran every morning, exercised during his shift and went to the gym on his off days. He ate well and kept hydrated. He was religiously going to the meetings, even though he never spoke at them. At least the people in the group were laid back and they never pushed him to talk, so he listened to the others, then chatted briefly with his sponsor. He got his three months chip. He was doing well.

Dad was proud of him. He would also get a little impatient when TK hovered too much in the first days after learning about the diagnosis.

"I was doing fine so far. I don't need you to mother hen me. If I need help I'll ask."

He let TK come with him to the treatments though. He didn't hide his nausea and vomiting spells anymore. And even though TK's stomach scrunched and his chest felt like it was filled with shattered glass, when he brought his father water, or listened to him gag, he never showed his discomfort. He was upbeat and optimistic and encouraging. This was what Dad needed.

On calls, it was sometimes harder to not panic, when Dad thrust himself into danger. TK had to keep his restraint even tighter then, because if Dad didn't tell anyone about his illness, his son had no right to babble. Dad had good reasons too. Someone might question his fitness for duty, because of illness or therapy. TK trusted his Dad and he knew that if his physical form might jeopardize someone's safety, Owen would be the first to bow out of the field. If he felt he could work, then he could work. Involving some bureaucrats was out of the question.

After all, wasn't it exactly the same as what Dad did for TK after New York? Lied, to protect his ability to work. TK owed him to at least return the favor, even if inside, he was scared.

Judd knew. That at least was certain. They haven't spoken, TK didn't want to initiate this conversation, but the way Judd hovered, the way he asked Owen, "How's kicks?", with that special undertone? Anyone with a braincell and a half could guess he was asking about something specific. Even if TK didn't suspect something was going on earlier, from Judd's behavior, now that he knew – it was plain as day.

In the end, it was Judd who first breached the subject.

TK and Owen came to the firehouse straight from the hospital, after chemo. Owen was cranky, which meant he was already feeling nauseous, but it wasn't bad enough for him to admit it.

"If I needed advice I'd ask for it!" he ended their argument about whether he could, perhaps, head home first and get some rest, and then come to work a little late.

They entered the firehouse, the words spoken in a curt tone, and then Dad aimed straight for his office ignoring Judd's "Hello," and Mateo's offered coffee. TK was right on his heels, psyching himself up for handing out another advice, when Judd stepped in front of him.

TK barely avoided colliding with the big guy.

"Let go," Judd muttered and raised his eyebrows.

TK balled his fists, took in a breath and… Nothing. Suddenly he felt like someone physically squeezed the juice out of him. He shook his head, shrugged and turned toward the locker room. He didn't know Judd followed him, until the other man spoke.

"You gotta cut him some slack," Judd's voice was gentle and kind, but scared the crap out of TK.

"Man, you could give a warning," he gasped, pressing his fist against his heart hammering inside his chest.

"Sorry." Judd leaned against the locker, some five feet away from TK. He wriggled his fingers. "You get it though, right?"

TK looked up, eyebrows raised in a silent question. He took off his hoodie and pulled on the uniform shirt.

"With your old man," Judd fumbled. Apparently he didn't want to say the words out loud, but TK wasn't going to make it easy for him. "He needs our support. Not lectures, or…" Judd waved his hand.

"I'm sure he does," TK responded in a perfectly flat, indifferent tone, not indicating in the slightest that they were talking about his father being seriously ill and undergoing a grueling treatment.

"Come on!" Judd's patience got thinner. "Hey, he said he told you everything."

TK shrugged, buttoning the last of his shirt. "He hadn't told me he told you anything." He turned to face Judd head-on.

Yes, he was angry about it. He was angry Judd knew before him, he was angry Dad didn't even attempt to explain it and he was angry that Judd had the galls to lecture him on how he should act around his own father.

"Well," Judd hesitated. "He did."

"When? How long have you known?"

"When he hired me." Judd must have realized it was a sore spot for TK, because he at least looked apologetic. "He thought it would push me to get treatment for my PTSD and he was right." He took a step toward TK to emphasize those words, crowded TK's private space. It took all TK had to not take a step back. "For what it's worth though," Judd continued, "I kept telling him he should let you know, from the get-go."

"Did he tell you why he didn't want to fill me in?"

"He said he waited for the right moment. Said you wasn't ready. But I think, TK, that he wasn't ready, if you know what I mean. He…" Judd shook his head searching for words.

"I know." TK nodded and lightly hit Judd's chest with his fist in a friendly gesture. "He said as much." He moved to get past Judd, but Judd's big hand landed on his bicep.

"Hey."

TK's bones ground against each other putting him to a halt. His skin burned where Judd's palm made contact. He didn't make a move though, stood motionless, frozen. Tried not to breathe.

Judd's hand fell away.

"How are you holding up?"

TK took a deep breath in and exhaled slowly.

He turned to Judd, pulling a smile onto his face.

"I'm okay. I know he's going to beat it. He's tough and, I don't know what you think, but he's got my full support."

"Good. As he does mine." He smiled, TK nodded and started to walk away, when Judd added. "You do too, you know? If you ever wanted to talk?" But TK was already in the door and out of the locker room.

* * *

TK had a recurring dream. In it, his father went to search for the kids inside the building wrecked by the tornadoes. Except this time, after the building collapsed on top of him, he didn't get out. They searched for him but couldn't find him and TK new they had to hurry. There were logs on his father's chest and he couldn't breathe. TK could hear him struggle, he could hear him cough.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is Paul's PoV, but the story is about TK, so a lot of it is Paul's perception of TK.
> 
> As for Paul's own storyline, transgender experience is not my own, but I tried to portray his inner turmoil with love and respect. I hope I don't hurt anyone with what I said here, but if I do -- feel free to tell me what I did wrong and, if you want to, advise me how I can fix it.
> 
>  **Warning:** references to recreational and not-so-recreational drug use.

For Paul, being queer didn't mean showing off his feathers, advertising who he was, going to parades or gay clubs. He was lucky enough, way back when, that his parents had listened to him, had heard him, and helped him in his transition. On the surface, he now looked like a man he felt he was, and he wasn't comfortable when that was put under scrutiny.

He sometimes used the label 'queer', because it was a wide enough umbrella, so someone might think he was bisexual, asexual or whatever they wanted, but didn't immediately jump to conclusions that he used to have "girl-parts".

That's what he told Carlos when he asked if he'd be okay going to a gay club.

"I'm actually queer too, Carlos."

Carlos nodded with a small, appreciative smile, while TK grabbed Paul’s shoulder from behind and squeezed.

It's not that he'd never been to a gay club before – he had. He just didn't usually like the crowd and the unpredictability of such places. Not just gay clubs, but clubs, bars, rock concerts and movie premieres in general.

Today though… Today it was exactly what he needed, TK and Carlos were right. He needed to blow off some steam.

Rhythmic music, sweaty bodies, and three bears into the night, Paul was relaxed and… actually angry.

"She was a bitch!" he shouted in TK's ear. Carlos went to take a leak or something.

"A total bitch." TK nodded solemnly.

" 'I'm not a bad person.' " Paul mocked her. " 'I really like you.' 'You're the man of my dreams.' Except not really. I'm not really man enough."

"You are, man." TK wrapped his arm around his shoulders.

"I know I am!" Paul pulled back. "I don't need no one confirming that for me. I'm just…"

"Quoting her, I know."

"Yeah."

TK was a good kid. A little naïve, still, but his heart was in the right place. He was optimistic, looking into the future with bright eyes and so much hope. What was it he said? 'We all get kicked in the head, but we have to get up and try again.' Which he was doing, obviously, with a damn hot policeman. Paul wondered if he would ever, really, find someone like that.

"Damn, I need something stronger." He gestured to his nearly empty third beer bottle.

"Let's go to the bar."

"No, I mean…" He looked around, then turned to TK. "How strict of a policeman is your boyfriend?"

"Uh… Why?"

"Like, if we tried to score something… illegal, what would he do?"

The myriad of reactions that flew through TK's face nearly knocked Paul on his ass. Fear, excitement, anger, panic, want. His mind connected the dots, even despite the alcohol-induced fog, and clicked almost out loud. Damn, how could he not have noticed before? Paul wanted to smack himself upside the head. One-hundred-and-sixteen days. TK wasn't counting days since he broke up with his ex-boyfriend. He was counting since… his not-best day, he’d said. Whatever it was, it must have included drugs, and not in a recreational, relatively harmless capacity.

"Forget it." He tried to backtrack. "Let's go dancing."

"Yeah," TK breathed out.

He was drinking mineral water. He was always drinking mineral water, how did Paul not add two and two together?

The party was over after that. TK's mood went haywire, Carlos noticed immediately when he got back and he must have known something, because he proposed they left the club and went for a burger. He didn't ask Paul what happened and Paul was too ashamed to admit he was the reason. They all tried to cover it up, TK most of them all, and Paul wouldn't dare risking to dig up something TK didn't want exposed. He could respect someone's need for secrecy.

He had to pay closer attention to TK though. Bright-eyed and hopefull for the future indeed. How could he have been so blind? The kid had demons and, for some reason, he refused to acknowledge them. Paul, having realized what he did, now had a clear certitude it was going to backfire eventually and in a spectacular manner.


	8. Chapter 8

TK genuinely wanted to help Mateo. There was no question about it. And yet, when Marjan came to get audio files from him that evening, he was only a third through his section of the book.

"You're joking, right?" Marjan, blunt as ever, looked him straight in the eye. "What were you doing all day?"

"I…" TK honestly didn't know how to explain himself. He tried, he honestly tried, but these days, time sometimes slipped through his fingers and he didn't know how or why.

"Get the rest done… soon." Marjan shook her head with disapproval. "He's not gonna listen to everything all at once, but… Get it done."

TK didn't sleep all that much anyway, so at least the night spent reading didn't drag like all the others.

* * *

TK didn't sleep much mostly because he didn't care about the dreams he was sometimes having. The one especially crept into his head often. In it, his Dad went into the collapsed building to get two kids out, except he didn't rescue them. Time was running out as they searched for Owen and TK knew his Dad couldn't breathe, he heard him struggle, he heard him cough.

This was usually when he woke up with a start.

Except once. He stayed the night at Carlos's. He and his team searched through the rubble, in the dream, but when they found the person buried inside and put the rebreather mask over his mouth, it wasn't Owen at all. It was TK. He was looking at his own slack face, closed eyes and wondered how it was possible. Lauren kept compressing the bag but his lungs wouldn't move. He heard his father yell ‘Narcan' and suddenly he was awake.

He knew he was awake. He was at Carlos's place. His eyes were open and he could see the hideous lamp Carlos said Michelle got him. But he couldn't breathe and he couldn't move. He couldn't even yell for Carlos to wake up, to do something. To save him, because he was suffocating right here, next to him.

Ability to move and to breathe returned just before he blacked out. He sprung up on the bed, panting, almost screaming. Carlos woke up right away, frightened by the noise. He was frantic, asking what happened what was wrong, but TK couldn't say.

He sobbed uncontrollably for the better part of the next hour, Carlos holding him in his strong arms and muttering soothing nonsense. Finally, they both fell asleep.

In the morning he refused to admit he even had a nightmare. Couldn't talk to Carlos about it. He couldn't very well tell his cop friend that the captain of the firehouse was seriously ill and that he was scared shitless.

* * *

They came in too early. Granted, Paul was already in the foyer, reading his book, but the exam wasn't going to be over for another twenty minutes. After five, TK couldn't sit still anymore. His skin was itching, his leg started bouncing on its own volition and Dad had to put a hand on his thigh for him to stop. A moment later TK started to wriggle his hands.

"Are you nervous?" Dad asked.

"No." TK wasn't nervous. He had no reason to be, it's not like his life depended on the results of this exam. Sure he wanted the Probie to... not to be a probie anymore. But it wasn't the reason enough to get nervous.

He never could sit still for long, that's just how he was. Besides, sitting on this uncomfortable chair, it was sort of like waiting on Dad's treatments. Maybe he was just reminded of them.

He sprung to his feet.

"I'm going to go get a snack."

Dad gave him a disapproving look. Right, snacks from the vending machine were far from the healthy lifestyle Dad tried to instill in him. TK shrugged and went anyway.

He didn't know what he wanted. He stood in front of the vending machine, unable to decide. Something sweet? Or maybe potato chips? No, cookies looked good, Oreos maybe? But he didn't really want sweets. Maybe coffee then? He looked to the side, where the other machine stood and saw Marjan there.

"Hey." He came up to her. "What are you doing here? Is the exam over?"

"Oh, hi." She smiled as she picked her hot beverage and took a sip. "Nah, no. They didn't let me stay in, said something about department policy being that someone from the same firehouse couldn't be at the exam."

"That's bullshit!"

"It is, but what could we do? I had to leave, so I just walked for a bit, did some shopping. Then came back. Is the Cap here too?"

"Yeah, and Paul."

When they got back to the rest of the group, Judd was there already as well. It was great that they were ready to support each other like this, in times of need.


	9. Chapter 9

The moment Owen said he would run a CPAD, in a full protective gear no less, he started regretting it. Not that he could back out now. And, honestly, he believed he could do it, because while twenty-five-years-olds at the beginning of their careers did have trouble with that, an actual fireman working the job – wouldn't. The problem was the chemo.

A thought crossed his mind, as he stood at the shore of Colorado next to the footbridge, that he might forgo one or two treatments. It would make him regain some strength. It would also give boost to the cancer, so it probably wasn't the best idea.

Either way, he needed to train first, to run a trial test and see what his score would actually be, and go from there.

He couldn't flunk that one. He'd worked too hard to rebuild this firehouse, transplanted three, no four people, including himself, to a new city. Burke threatened them, in no subtle terms. Their fate was now in Owen's hands.

He would probably have to come clean for them though, admit to being ill and that thought was not reassuring at all. How was he supposed to go about that?

His phone rung, interrupting his thoughts. And then it stopped before Owen even managed to dig it out of his pocket. He looked at the screen, perplexed, then pressed the 'call-back' button.

"TK?"

"Hey," TK answered on the first ring. "Hey, yeah, sorry, am I interrupting?" He sounded a little breathless.

"No, you are not. What's going on?" Owen's heart sped up, as it always did whenever he picked up on the slightest anxiousness in his son. He always feared TK would call, at some point, to tell him he wanted to use again. Or that he had just used. At the same time, Owen hoped TK would call him, instead of suffering somewhere, alone.

"Um. I wanted to ask you the same."

"The same?"

"Yeah. I mean. What is going on? What did Chief Radford want?"

"Oh. Right." TK did ask him to let him know. "I'm on my way home, should be there in twenty, I'll tell you all about it."

"Yeah, but is everything okay?" there was a hint of panic in TK's voice now. "Sorry. Sorry, I didn't mean to pressure you like that," he backtracked immediately. "I'm just-- I'm not worried or anything, but just--"

"It's okay," Owen cut in. "There's nothing to worry about. Just a small hiccup. We'll deal with it. We'll talk more when I'm home, okay?"

"Yeah. Yeah, okay. Sorry."

"I'll be there soon, just. Wait for me." And don't do anything stupid. Owen didn't say that; he tried to avoid situations and topics that might set TK off, he tried to avoid anything upsetting, tried to remain positive around TK, surround him with good things. But sometimes, life just didn't want to cooperate.

He got home in less than twenty minutes. If he was speeding a little here and there, he would just have to be forgiven. TK was in the kitchen, having some coffee, apparently, although his cup was still full and probably cold. Something to occupy himself with, to distract himself, then.

He was standing at full attention when Owen entered, must have heard him pull up. He tried to put on a nonchalant smile, but Owen could see he was all jittery.

"Take a seat, kiddo," he sighed and turned on the coffee maker. He also needed something to occupy himself with.

"So?" TK urged. The chair scratched against the floor, so he at least did as Owen told. "What was it all about? Come on, Dad!"

"Captain Burke told the Chief about my cancer," Owen said, his back to TK.

"What?" The chair scratched again. "How did he know in the first place? Was that Judd, did Judd tell him?"

Now Owen turned, both hands raised up in a placating gesture.

"Judd wouldn't do that." He watched the swirl of emotion on his son's face, wide eyes, lips parted, nostrils flaring. He wasn't doing a great job of keeping TK's stress levels low. He was going to make it even worse. "It was I," he admitted, "I told him."

"What?"

"We, uh, we seemed to connect, you know. Seemed like we were making friends and I just-- I confided in him."

TK shook his head and dropped back to the chair. "This bastard."

Owen rounded the table and stopped next to TK, laid a hand on his shoulder.

"It's gonna be okay, son," he said with conviction. He had to assure TK that he had things under control. "I'm gonna pass the CPAD and they'll know I am fully fit to keep doing my job. Actually, it's better that this came out. We can just be open about everything now. More transparency and all that."

Keep things positive.

TK didn't seem to buy the positivity though. If anything he looked even more distraught.

"They make you take CPAD?"

"In full protective gear." TK's eyes went wide and Owen could see that he was about to blow up again, so he went for full disclosure. Better have it out of the way all at once. "Frankly, it was I who suggested it." TK hid his face in his hands. "This way they know I have nothing to hide and I'm sure I can do it!" TK looked up at him with raised eyebrows. "I need you to believe in me. And, I need you to run a trial test with me, so I know where I'm standing and whether or not I need to do some additional training."

That would also help TK, Owen was sure, to see that neither the cancer, nor the treatments, were hurting his Dad. That he was still strong and he wouldn't fail.

"Will you help me, son?

"You know I will."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **A/N:** This chapter is a coda to episode 1x07, but at the moment of its posting, Season One has just wrapped up. Knowing where the canon went and what happened, I want to change the trajectory now. So, starting next chapter, the story will go AU, from episode 8 forward. I'm not going to do the cancer!dog storyline (probably) and the shooting (for sure). There will be plenty of other angst and drama though, that much I can promise. And more friendship and moral support than on the show.
> 
> I hope you will continue to read my little story.


	10. Chapter 10

"I'm gonna be okay, though, you don't need to worry. I mean, with the cancer, I get this really advanced treatment, and I hardly get any side effects. I feel practically normal. As for the CPAD, I'm as fit as any of you, so. It's gonna be okay. I just figured, I owe it to you to come clean. Of course, it doesn't change anything within the house. We work as usual."

Captain Strand finished his speech and was faced with a moment of awkward silence, so Marjan instinctively blurted, "Sure thing, Cap'n." Then she glanced around at her colleagues.

Judd nodded solemnly, but he didn't look surprised, and she wondered what was up with that.

Paul spread his arms. "We're with you, Captain, whatever you need," he said, but Marjan sensed something in his tone that unsettled her. She was going to have to talk to Paul.

Mateo seemed to look to her for clues on what to do and on her encouraging smile, he too nodded and expressed his support.

And TK smiled at his dad and patted him on the back. "You're gonna kick ass," he said. "We start training tomorrow, off shift."

"That we do."

It was all well and good then.

Except, it kind of wasn't. Cancer was not like a common cold. Captain might have been all optimistic and shit, but Marjan needed some more solid evidence he was doing good, than just his word. He probably intended for CPAD to be the proof – to the department and team alike – that he could do the job, so huge props for that. Perhaps all she, and the others, had to do was wait for him to take the test and be reassured, but the thing kept popping up in conversations here and there.

First, it was Paul having doubts regarding their fate if the Cap didn't complete the test in the allotted time. Which was a fair point. Marjan wanted to believe he was going to make it, but realistically speaking, chances were slim.

Then, there was Mateo, who was simply concerned about the Captain's health. And, Marjan had to admit, it bothered her as well. Was he putting up a brave face for their sake? Was he hiding how he really felt?

She cornered TK in the locker room as they were leaving the station that night.

"How is he, but without sugarcoating?"

"What?" TK straightened up, his button-up shirt up one side, pulling the other on. "What do you mean?"

"The Cap. How is he doing? I know he's saying he's great and he feels strong and has no side effects whatsoever. That's what he says, that's what he wants us to believe. But you know better, you are with him day-in, day-out. How bad is it?"

There was a flicker of anguish in TK's eyes, but he took a sharp inhale, blinked, and it was gone.

"He's good. He says he's good and he actually is good. He's a fighter and he's gonna beat this thing. I believe in him. This is what he needs from us, to believe in him, so that's what I'm gonna give him. There's not an ounce of doubt in my mind. He's doing great."

TK slapped the door to his locker shut, flinched at the sound, but contained it, then looked at her again, smiled, turned around and left, his shirt unbuttoned, shoes untied.

Marjan had to admit TK's reassurances unnerved her, instead of making her feel relieved.

#

Mateo's Abuela died of breast cancer when he was eight years old. Tia Lena followed three years later. It was scary, he always feared for his Mom, his sisters, even his dad because, of course, there were different forms of cancer. That's why he didn't readily believe Captain Strand's promises that he was feeling great and that everything was going to be okay.

"It's what they always say at the beginning." He couldn't stop thinking about it.

They were doing their fitness training, the whole team, Paul at a crossover, Marian on a bench spotted by TK, and Judd on a bike. Mateo tried to focus on dumbbells, but the worry was at the front of his mind for the last couple of days, since the Captain had told them, so he just blurted it out.

"What do they say?" Paul asked.

"That everything is going to be okay. I mean, the doctors, even. They say it just to keep your hopes up, you know. For the time being. But then. Chemo doesn't work enough, or your bloodwork drops, so they can't give you treatment, and the more you skip, the more the cancer gains on you. Or there are complications. And before you know it, it's stage two, stage three, then terminal."

"That's grim," Judd muttered.

"But it's true. I've seen it. Twice."

The others fell silent, only grunts and rasping and squeaks of the equipment were heard.

"Uh, TK, you spotting or what?" Marjan puffed out.

"Yeah, sorry." TK reached for the barbell and helped her place it in safety.

Marjan sat up and turned toward Mateo, wiping her palms on a rug.

"Listen, Probie," she started, "I know you worry. We all do. But some cancers have high survival rates, plus if it's an early stage, chances are the treatment will work and the Captain will get better."

"That's what they were telling my Auntie." Mateo felt tears prickle at the corners of his eyes. "And a year later she was dying."

Marjan leaned closer and placed a hand on his knee. Her eyes were filled with compassion and sadness. She didn't say anything though; TK did, instead.

"This isn't gonna happen here." His voice was decisive, like he had any say in the matter. Like by just repeating it often enough, he would make the statement true. He glared at Mateo from under a furrowed brow. "And why are you even telling us all this? Who cares?"

"Whoa, rude." Marjan looked up at TK.

"Who's rude? We don't need this negativity. The Captain doesn't need it!"

He was angry. Mateo got it, he really did. He didn't like the reality of a close relative having cancer any more than any other person. It didn't help to pretend though, he knew that for sure.

"Look, I'm sorry, but that's just how it is," he looked straight into TK's eyes. He tried to be gentle about it. "My Grandma and my Aunt both died of cancer, so I know what I'm talking about."

"So fucking what? How does bringing it up help anybody?"

"Take it easy, man." Paul reached out, trying to grab TK's arm, but TK wriggled out.

"I am taking it easy, alright? Why are we having this conversation?"

Marjan stood up and faced him, fists propped on her hips.

"Because we're afraid, TK," she explained, like to a child. "Because this is not like the Cap telling us he scratched his car. This is serious and it may have a potentially serious impact on all our lives. Besides, it's new for us all. You've got it all sorted out, because you have known for months."

TK visibly deflated. "More like three weeks," he muttered.

"What?" Marjan spun on her heel. "Judd, you said the Cap knew since New York."

"The Cap did." Judd scratched the back of his neck. "He didn't want to tell TK, though, for some reason. For what it's worth," he raised a finger, "I kept telling him that he should have."

"Yeah." TK nodded and sat down on the weight bench, like all fight suddenly left him. Mateo's breath caught in his throat at the sight. "He was afraid I'd freak out."

Marjan shook her head. "You have every right to freak--"

"No!" TK sprung right back up. "I don't! And I didn't. He-- I'm not gonna let him see me being afraid or upset, I won't. That's not what he needs. He needs-- He needs support and-and-and faith and-- So, you talking like this, it doesn't help, okay?"

He stuttered and wavered and caught on words like he wasn't sure what he wanted to say; like he was too agitated to even think straight. Mateo felt sorry for him.

Not just Mateo.

"Okay." Marjan wanted to touch him, to reassure him, maybe, but TK just passed by her and stormed out of the room.

It must have been hard for him. Learning about his father being sick and dealing with all the treatments and whatnot. They were obviously very close, and Mateo had to admit, that even though he loved his Abuela very much, she wasn't a parent. Besides, he was a lot younger and he had his Mama and older sister. TK didn't really know anyone in Austin, they had been here just over four months. He wondered in TK talked to his Mom about this. Or to some friends back in New York. He had kept as tight a lid on the Captain's health here, at the firehouse, as the Cap himself. Not a word to any of them. That must have been difficult too.

The others glanced at one another, taken aback by TK's outburst. Mateo wondered what they all thought.

"Well, this sucks." Judd stepped off the bike, his face concerned and thoughtful.

"Damn, we shouldn't have brought it up." Paul looked like he swallowed a bug.

"Actually," Marjan smiled. "I think we should have. I think it's good that we did. He bottles up a lot of negative emotions. A solid shake-up might do him good. Make him open up more."

Paul shook his head. "There's some things you don't know," he said and it sounded like a warning.

"What things?"

"Well," he hesitated, then tried to backtrack, "I don't really know either. All I'm saying we gotta keep an eye on him."

Mateo wasn't sure he liked the sound of that. Watching TK? Like, spying on him?

"We gotta make him know we are his friends," he corrected. " 'cause that's what we are here, right? Y'all pulled together to help me get through that exam. Now we gotta do the same for TK." Everyone nodded. "Well, not exactly the same, just--"

"I know what you mean, Mateo," Marjan smiled. "And I agree." She looked at everyone in turn. "TK needs all the friends he can get."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was really important to me, because I feel like we didn't see the actual 'family building' on the show. At least not them rallying up around TK when he needed them. So, it was a bit of self-indulgence here. Hope you liked it as much as I did.  
> It's not to say that TK's issues here are solved. Quite on the contrary, now he has to accept their offer of friendship. It won't be easy.


	11. Chapter 11

Michelle Blake was Carlos's only family. And they weren't even related by blood. They had known each other for nearly ten years now, though, and they had been through enough trying times together, to know their bond was unbreakable.

Iris's disappearance certainly was one of those times. It was hard to imagine that finally, this period was coming to an end. Throughout all of this, Carlos had always tried to be supportive of Michelle, about everything. Even today, as they went to identify the items from the truck Iris was last seen in, he remained strong and composed.

Michelle was no fool. She may have not been Police, but she understood, as well as he had, that all evidence pointed to Iris being inside that truck when it had gone down. Testing the blood and the DNA would only prove what they both already knew. She was strong too. She didn't cry, didn't break down. And yet, Carlos knew that under that stoic demeanor, she was crumbling. All her hopes of the last three years were about to be crushed.

He hadn't been as close with Iris as he was with Michelle, but he used to know her, used to fool around with her and annoy Michelle to no end. They had been friends. And it was hard. The last few days were hard.

Only when Carlos got home and locked the door behind him, could he let his frustration let out. Frankly, he wanted to get wasted and fall asleep completely unaware of any kind of reality. But he wasn't going to do that. Screaming wouldn't help much either.

He needed to do something productive instead, so he changed into comfortable clothes, sweatpants and tank top, and pulled out some flour, eggs, sour cream. The ingredients to make himself churro pancakes, the taste of home, the way Tita Sofia used to make them when he was a kid. Cooking always made him calmer.

He whisked together the dry ingredients in a large bowl, then cream and milk with eggs in the other. Was about to add them together, when his phone pinged. He got a text. From TK.

'U home?' it said.

Carlos didn't think twice before hitting 'Y' and 'send'

'That's a yes I hope, not a why?' came another text, but before Carlos managed to put in a response, there was a knock on the door.

Great.

Spending time with TK was usually a good thing and on most occasions, Carlos was looking forward to it. Especially since their encounters were rather few and far between. However, they were also emotionally draining on par with being around Michelle today, considering Carlos had to restrain his feelings and navigate carefully, because of TK's multitude of issues.

He wasn't sure anymore that it was all worth it. Nevertheless, he opened the door.

TK leaned on the doorframe, head bowed, a teasing smile on his lips. He was dressed in a short-sleeved burgundy button-up with a delicate paisley pattern. Mandatory top button open. Dark gray jeans hung low on his waist. Damn, he looked fine.

He smelled some deep earthy scent that always made Carlos weak.

"Can I come in?" he asked and Carlos couldn't find it in him to refuse. He opened the door a little wider. "Hope you're not busy?" TK moved in closer, brushing his shoulder against Carlos's chest and letting his breath ghost over Carlos's bare neck.

Carlos inhaled sharply – that scent again – and closed his eyes. They weren't going to end up in bed again, he thought, not this time, he was not in the mood.

He felt TK's fist grab the fabric on his chest and their mouth crashed with inescapable want.

His body betrayed him and responded with an eager kiss. He grabbed the back of TK's head, while his other hand went to TK's waist and pulled the shirt from his pants. Warm body vibrated under his fingertips.

"No," he moaned.

TK pushed his tongue past his teeth, exploring the inside of his mouth.

Carlos whipped his head about. "I said no!" he shouted and forcefully pushed TK at arm's length.

He didn't let go of his arms though.

TK glared at him, eyes and mouth open, panting. "Sorry," he mouthed, then added more audibly, but still in a whisper, "didn't hear you."

Carlos's arms fell to his sides. Then came up; he hid his face behind his palms, wiped his eyes, massaged his temples.

"I am sorry. I just." He took a step back, let his shoulders hit the wall behind him. "It was a rough day."

"I didn't mean to--"

"I know you didn't. I know we-- I know how we are. One of us wants to blow off some steam, so he calls on the other. And it usually works well, for both of us."

"Not today, though."

"No. Not today. Today I don't need to blow off steam." Carlos turned away and went back to the kitchen area, stared at the two bowls and fought the urge to just throw them against the wall, watch the glass shatter and the ingredients fly apart. It would be a lot of cleaning. "Today I need to talk to someone," he confessed, leaning against the counter, his back to TK. He didn't really want to see his face, he didn't want that rejection, he wasn't sure he could take it.

Damn it, he didn't want to fall in love with this man, he didn't want to have expectations, but there he was. Practically begging for some compassion. He had dealt with life all on his own, all his life. Even when Tita had been alive. She had been old and she couldn't carry all of Carlos's problems. Especially after she started getting sick. Michelle. Michelle was a friend. She'd given him a lot of attention when he was a teenager, she made him proud of being gay, for one. Still. Trusting her, leaning on her? That was not what Carlos would readily do.

He didn't want to, or need to, lean on TK either. He turned to him ready to apologize for his outburst and to just brush it all away, but when he did, TK was just two steps away from him, his eyes sincere and… caring.

"We can talk if you want," he said with a small shrug.

Carlos snorted and shook his head. "Wouldn't that be too close to, you know, a relationship territory?"

TK looked down at his hands, cracked his knuckles, fidgeted. He was always fidgeting, always moving, like he couldn't stay still even for a second, even if it was a minute movement of his shoulders, or clenching and unclenching his fists. Constantly.

"It's okay, I guess," he said. "We are friends too, right? Not just--" he moved a hand between them, "fuck buddies." He inclined his head with a lopsided grin. "We can talk."

"Fuck buddies," Carlos repeated. He shook his head with a smirk. "You want some churro pancakes?"

"I could eat."

TK sat on the table, his legs dangling and asked what had happened. Carlos wasn't really sure where to start, but focusing on mixing the stuff for the pancakes helped get the words out. TK knew a little about Michelle's situation, so Carlos only had to fill in the blanks.

"The thing is," he added, as he lit the fire under the pan and turned toward TK, "I can't really fall apart about this, you know." This was the hard part for him at the moment. "I mean not that I need to fall apart, it's not quite on that level for me. But I can't show any emotion. Not in front of Michelle anyway. And she is the only person I actually… could. I mean I spoke to my partner, told her this whole thing stresses me out, but. It's not that personal with her, you know. We're colleagues. It's not that level of… Intimacy, I guess."

Carlos looked up at TK, suddenly conscious of the wording he used. He wanted to backtrack and it must have shown on his face because TK smiled reassuringly.

"It's okay," he said. "You feel that with me. It's… It's fine, really. I--" he hesitated, drawing his shoulders up to his ears, then blurted out, "I care about you. I mean, we have that thing going on and, yes, it is too complicated for me, I can't really--" he sighed, "I don't know what I'm doing, what we are doing, but I do care about you and I think it's good that you told me all of that. I'm glad I could lend an ear."

"Good."

"Yeah, good."

"Because I needed it."

"Sure."

The pan was heated enough to start pouring the batter on it. Carlos poured the first pancake and figured, he might as well take a risk.

"What is bothering you?" he asked without turning to look at TK.

"Me?" TK asked, slightly surprised. "Nothing."

Carlos stole a glance at him. He still sat on the kitchen table, legs dangling. He scratched behind his ear, shrugged at Carlos's scrutiny, frowned.

"Come on," Carlos tried to sound gentle. "I know you're having trouble sleeping, for one."

"Oh, that." TK ruffled his hair. "No, that's…" he paused, drummed his fingers on the tabletop. "Actually." He jumped off like he wanted to walk away, but instead stayed there. Fidgeted. "It's about my dad." He met Carlos's eyes, defiantly, but then averted them again, like there was something interesting up the wall. "I didn't want to talk about it before, because it was sort of a secret. Wouldn't be good if the brass found out and all. But now it's all up in the open, so I guess I can. He has-- he's sick."

"Is it serious?"

Now TK pushed away from the table. "Cancer," he said. "Lung cancer." He walked to the middle of the living area. "Apparently from all the smoke and whatever all that shit was he inhaled on 9/11."

"Damn. That sucks."

"Yeah."

"How are you holding up?"

"Well, he's… surprisingly good, actually." Carlos frowned at TK's blatant – perhaps subconscious – change of the subject in this sentence. TK kept talking, though, and rather fast, not leaving him the opening to point that out. "He's getting chemo and all that, but it doesn't slow him down for a second. Actually, he's been dealing with it all on his own for months, you know. He didn't want to tell me. Probably because of all my issues. I mean, he didn't say that; he said some…" he waved his hand about. "But I know he didn't want me to worry. Or to freak out. I'm not, by the way. Not freaking out. I know he needs me and I'm gonna be there for him."

He was clearly upset. Carlos decided not to call him out on not answering the question he asked. Instead, he assumed he knew what the answer was.

"Must be tough for you, though. It is scary to know someone you love is sick."

"It's not." TK shook his head vehemently. "I'm not."

"You're not? What?"

"Scared. Or. Whatever. Your pancake is burning."

Shit! Carlos rushed to try and salvage it, but it was too late and he had to throw it away.

"Damn."

"I'm sorry."

"Hey, it's not your fault. Besides I have plenty more of that." Carlos poured another part of the batter onto the pan. "Besides --again-- I don't even care if I make them or not. It was just a way for me to unwind." He turned back to TK. "What do you do to unwind, when things get tough?"

TK looked up at him, eyes wide like he said something scandalous.

"I d-- I--" he stammered. "I don't know. Nothing. Look, why are we even--" He spread his arms, clearly angry. "You wanted to talk. I offered to listen. Why do you turn it around? I'm fine, I don't need to talk about anything, or unwind, or whatever it is you're hinting at. I'm okay."

"Then why are you so cross right now?" Carlos responded on instinct. Immediately, he raised his palms, because he could just see how this course of conversation would lead to TK bolting out of his house. "Okay, I'm sorry," he backed off. "I get it. You don't want to talk. Fine. I just have to know one thing. Wait." He focused on flipping the pancake for a moment and formulating the question in his head. Then he turned back to TK, who was pacing up and down the living room. "Just tell me you are talking about how you feel with someone," he asked in a low voice.

"I go to AA meetings once a week."

"Do you speak about how you are worried, or upset?"

"I am not worried."

"That's literally not possible. If you love your father, and I know you do, it's not possible."

TK blinked several times.

"You know what?" he started and paused. "You are right." He neared the table between them and leaned on it. "Thing is. I can't. Maybe I am worried. Deep inside, maybe I am, but I can't be. I can't be feeling--" He gestured, like it would serve as a clarification for what he meant. Then settled for, "This. It's like my Dad said. He doesn't want to see fear or grief in my eyes and I don't… I can't let myself feel it, because if I do… If… I'm not--" He stammered, looked out of breath there, for a moment, then squared his shoulders and looked at Carlos with a plea in his eyes. "I don't want to talk about any of this, because if I start feeling this, I won't be able to stop. It will consume me. I know, I-- I've been there, I know how I react and I can't do that right now, okay? I can't feel… sad. Or scared. I gotta be strong. And the pancake is burning again."

Carlos only placed the pan on another burner now and turned off the fire. He didn't know what to say.

TK was a lot of work, he knew that much. And this, pushing away negative emotions like this – it wasn't going to end well. Because they would resurface. They would blow up at the wrong moment and they would destroy everything in their wake. But he didn't know how to explain to TK, that he had to face his demons. Hell, he didn't know if he had any right to, because what if TK was right? What if it was already too late, and any attempt at facing those demons would end in a catastrophe?

"Okay," he settled finally. He had no choice but take his cue from TK. "But you have to promise me something. You have to, TK."

"What?"

"If you feel like you're cracking, you call me. Day or night. On-shift, off shift. You call me. If I don't pick up, I'll call you back as soon as I can. And you wait. You don't crack without me on the other side of the phone. Or next to you. You got it?"

TK sighed and nodded without saying a word.

"Good. Now sit down. Or go and pick a movie we can watch and I'll make the rest of those pancakes, so we can eat. Go!"

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading.  
> If you want to yell at me for having them completely wrong, come find me on tumblr. I'm [eveningspirit](https://eveningspirit.tumblr.com/).  
> If you like how I write them, you know what to do. :)


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